of this church stands an open cloister with a row of pillars, behind which lies an empty tomb, probably pillaged over the centuries, which has been carved out of rock. It is over two yards long, about a yard wide and two feet high. The tomb itself has no decoration or motifs, only two places for candle-holders. Benedetti has pointed out that the Museum of Art at Turin possesses two large candlesticks, which are said to have come from St Alberto’s. The candlesticks were fashioned in Limoges, and on the base of each are two lions rampant. Benedetti claimed these candlesticks could have been a votive offering to the monastery by Edward III as, during his reign, Limoges was in the English-occupied duchy of Gascony.
Benedetti has also argued that some of the sculpture and architecture around the cloisters is a secret chronicle of Edward II’s and Edward III’s reigns. G. P. Cuttino and Thomas W. Lyman, however, in their very scholarly article on Edward II, published in
Speculum
(1978), clearly demonstrate that the sculpture is much older than the fourteenth century and can be interpreted in many ways. The empty tomb itself probably dates from the eleventh century, although, of course, it could have been used in the fourteenth to hold the remains of Edward II. Cuttino’sprincipal criticism of Benedetti’s and Nigra’s theories was that their research at Melazzo and Cecime came after the publication of Germain’s transcription of the letter and its subsequent publicity. However, in 1958 another Italian historian, Dominicoe Sparpaglione, interrogated a local elder, one Zerba Stefano, aged eighty-eight, who faithfully declared that the tomb at St Alberto’s of Butrio had been the focus of local ritual in his grandfather’s era, well before 1900, and that his grandfather and other locals had talked of an English king who had taken refuge in the hermitage. Germain’s discovery of the Fieschi letter in 1878 was not published in Italy until 1901 but local legend had existed long before then, of an English king who had been hidden and was later buried in the Hermitage of St Alberto. 3
Of course, Nigra and Benedetti’s commentaries are based on the famous letter, and the crucial question remains, is Fieschi’s letter true? Does it reflect what really happened? A critical analysis of its contents is essential and is best done taking each relevant section in turn.
In the name of the Lord, Amen. These things which I heard from the confession of your father, I have written down with my own hand and for this reason I have taken care to communicate them to your lordship.
This opening sentence is highly ambiguous. It hints that Fieschi might have already written a letter to Edward III and this was a second missive. Fieschi declares he had met Edward III’s father and talks unambiguously about the confession ‘of your father’. Such a statement can be challenged. Fieschi was a Catholic priest. This hermit,claiming to be Edward II, apparently went to him and made his confession. In the Catholic Church the role of the confessor is sacrosanct: to break the secrecy of the confessional warrants the harshest ecclesiastical penalties. Some might argue that the hermit claiming to be Edward II did not make a sacramental confession but a simple narration of what had happened to him since his escape from Berkeley Castle. However, Fieschi uses the word ‘confession’, then skillfully circumvents it by declaring that he’s only going to mention ‘these things which I have heard from the confession’, namely, matters not covered by the sacrament.
Fieschi, a papal lawyer, could draw a clever distinction between what was told to him under the seal of confession and those matters peripheral to it. Nevertheless, Fieschi was playing with fire. Moreover, he gives no reason why he accepted the hermit to be Edward II or why he believed him. He provides no description, and the hermit, apart from his story, apparently offered no proof. Nor does